M!/F! Reader One-Shots

Jumin x Male!Reader

Jumin from Mystic Messenger

Yes I know this story is crap, leave me alone, I made it awhile ago (I changed the characters though) and I just needed to do something with it.

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Jumin, the Prince of Tralia, was walking through the brick roads of his beautiful kingdom. He found it hard to believe that soon, he would be the king.

Jumin, for once in his life, planned to suck up his pride to thank the royal blacksmith for the fine blade that was crafted for him. It wasn't an easy task, but he figured it was worth it.

At last, billowing smoke was spotted rising from a roof of one building and he knew that had to be the place were the blacksmith would be.

Jumin stepped through the entrance to see a young man of about 21, almost the same age as him. He hadn't expected someone so young. He thought he'd walk in here to see a large, burly man covered in soot.

He stopped in his tracks, heart racing like it never has before. What's happening?

The young blacksmith had (h/l), (h/c) hair, (e/c) eyes and, (s/t) skin. He was wearing a black shirt woth overalls overtop. A hammer was held in his right hand and he stared at the Prince with eyes filled with with, not expecting his presence. The blacksmith quickly collected himself and bowed.

Jumin's face burned like the sun. He had no idea what was happening to him, and he wasn't sure why. Was he attracted to this man? But he'd never been attracted to men before, so why now? Why was this happening because of him?

"Please, there's no need to bow." Jumin said, controlling his emotions well, just like his father taught him.

The blacksmith stood up straight and said, "I'm (f/n). Its a pleasure to finally meet you in person, my Prince."

"Jumin is fine. You don't have to call me anything else." Jumin chose to walk a young the shop, admiring all the fine pieces of work.

(F/n) seemed embarrassed. "Oh sorry."

Jumin glanced at (f/n) through the corner of his eye. "It's fine, don't worry about it."

(F/n) knew this conversation was going more downhill as each word was uttered. So he took the safe route and changed the subject. "Why did you come here?"

Jumin sighed in relief as the subject was changed. He turned to face (f/n). "I actually came to thank you for forging this blade for me." He said, gesturing to the sword hanging in its hilt at his waist.

(F/n) beamed, a smile that made Jumin's heart skip a beat. "I'm glad you like it. I always considered that blade as my best work. It's an honour to know you appreciate it."

Jumin squinted his eyes, looking closer at (f/n) and saw something he hasn't noticed before. Was he. . . blushing? At that moment Jumin got an idea.

(F/n) rubbed the back of his neck. "Um, did I offend you in some way?"

"Huh? Why would you have offended me?"

"Well," (f/n) shrugged, raising his eyebrows. "You were just glaring at me like I slapped you or something."

Jumin turned his face to stone to hide his embarrassment. "That was an accident. Anyways, I must get going."

They exchanged goodbyes and Jumin departed to return to his room in the palace. He sat at his desk, pulling a price of parchment out of a drawer, getting his ink and feather to write with, and began his note.

That night, he threw on his navy cloak and snuck out to (f/n)'s shop.

The next morning, (f/n) woke up and began his morning routine. He lit the fire in his furnace, and, walked up to his lucky shield giving it a high-five. He did a bit of cleaning before he noticed a note placed carefully on one of his tables.

Wondering what the note could say and who it could be from, (f/n) licked it up and opened it. The handwriting was neat and elegant, and he knew it must be from a royal, for no one else was educated enough to know how to write in handwriting, ambit which royal was it? So he read the note and with each word, his heart melted with happiness. Then he finally reached the end and even though it said who wrote it, just from reading the letter alone, (f/n) knew who wrote it. The bottom of the page was signed "Sincerely, Jumin".

The note had asked him to meet Jumin out by the small bridge over the creek, and (f/n) did exactly that. He headed out to meet Jumin soon after he closed shop.

Jumin waited, leaning against the stones making up the bridge. He heard footsteps and at first he thought someone had followed his and began to worry, but turned to see it was only (f/n).

Jumin's heart beta rapidly, and he smiled, relived. "You actually came."

"Of course I did." (F/n) smiled back.

As soon as (f/n) reached Jumin on the bridge he was wrapped in a hesitant embrace, to which (f/n) hugged back.

They pulled apart just staring into each other's eyes when Jumin began to lean forward, intending to kiss (f/n).

Before that could happen, an outraged cry came from the dark grouping of trees behind them.

The king came barreling out from their shadows, sword in hand, yelling profanities.

"HOW COULD YOU DISRESPECT OUR NAME LIKE THIS?" The king cried as he came at the two.

In shock, the couple couldn't move. The king whacked Jumin in the head woth the butt end of his sword and the last thing the Prince saw before he went unconscious was the king stabbing (f/n) in the heart and seeing his newfound lover crumple to the ground lifelessly.

Jumin woke up in a small bed woth chains cuffed around his neck, wrists, and ankles. He looked up to see what he expected: think bars going from the ceiling to the floor, and on the other side of them stood his father.

"It's about time you woke up. You'll be staying here until you be learned your lesson." And with that, the kind walked away.

As soon as Jumin knew he was gone, he let all his tears flow out, breaking down the emotionless wall he'd spent his entire life building. His tears trailed down his face, soaking it, and fell onto the floor, shattering like fragile diamonds.